Left Handed Summer

Left Handed Summer

Left handed Summer
alias Uncle Hugo.
I step out
into this night.

Those parasites know
of the light
that failed.
Imploded in the center
of op bop.

In this shadow made
by blooming springtime.
In this shadow
next to this last temptation.

I walked into your door
will I never see her
any more?

I see two
little red boxcars
I think of her
I hurt inside
a hallowed ache.

Games people play
one game on the house
dark angel in green.

Every little trick
she plays
scarecrow straw Janie.

There are three names now
for Lady Katherine
I saw the way.

Remember
the living lotus
in her paste up hell.
I am the clown
on the hill.

She still
plies her trade
in the sporting house
grocery.

I read the bio
of her husband
the ogre.
His world
his fame
his flame.

And I think of:
star money
secret star
Sweet Jane
superstar.

Star mama
some glad morning
you are my
satellite soul mate.

On Vinegar Hill
marriage a la mode
a case of need.

The bottom line
in deep Summer
endless horizons.

We hunt
the spirit mammoth
somewhere
below the salt.

This is the story
of a secret state
in this left handed Summer
in this valley of vines.

Sweet Lasher went swimming
in the dark river
with a bad man
in the big heat.

Tigers in the smoke
she rides the red dragon.
Too many cousins
dancing naked in La Grange.

She's one of seven
born again virgins.
she steps out
she is lost to me.

That strange woman
she's into soul bonding
soul bondage.

Where is my
red curled poltergeist
she's clocked,
boom boom in my ear.

Some Japanese thing
Lone Wolf
I snarl at the moon.
Moonchild experiment
watercolor
in the rain.

You poor little
kidnapped angel.
My poor little
clap trap angel.

My soul like
riptide water.
This abundance
of witches
you living lotus
bitches.

Uncle Hugo is in Eden
the old folks home
of joy and poems
dealing with this
ever present danger.

To the magic store
on some blinded date.

Into her labyrinth
and back out again
sweet soul pilgrim.

I know
my love
I can hear
her battle cry.

She returns to life
cries for the angels
a word shogun.

My daddy went blind at 40
but my will is good
on this glorious morning.

Bless your fuzzy little heart
baby
go sow your seeds
of mischief.

The doomsday ladies
hide and go seek
as they work
their science.

I asked my love
Dark Queenie
will you talk
in this left handed Summer?

Hard facts
a woman run mad.
In the caves
on the hill
under the sheets
experimenting
with the moon.

I keep
the search light
burning.

Face to face
with the misty tiger
in the smoke
she rides the red dragon.

Orphan daughter
of the philosopher
for common good.

A fiend in need
she is a perfect whirlwind.
Inhuman condition
I am alone for days.

I am nothing
to her now.
The ongoing silence
is driving me mad.

Her mirror mirror
on the wall.
My fingers
in her soft places.
Her modern mathematics
her pager number.

I light
the candle for her
and this big
world of people.

Silver leopard
led astray
from a magnificent destiny.

I am the foolish virgin
with my
magnificent obsession.
Law of the lion
I'll find her.

Bright feather
hot leather
magicians of night
and strutting ducks.

Loaded dice
she is there
in that secret
shadow valley.

Sweet adultery
under the moon.
The Dark Queen's gift
a riddle.

Please speak to me
before the sun goes down
the children
of the rainbow
do the dark dance.

-Will Dockery 1997

Saint Augustine Blues (Chorus 7)

Saint Augustine Blues (Chorus 7)

Moon watching again tonight
sitting here alone.
Bittersweet here under the glow.
In this place where
this strange soft safe place.

The tide is in
a swiishing smashing
violence against the rocks.
Against the spot where
earloer I stood.

I now stand above it on the deck
and look down at its playful fury.

The waves are startlong to me
high tide rocks the shore.
I'm standing on this deck
over these waves
that threaten to cover me.

The waves pound
a cheap thrill
almost scary.

Big spashing waves
that would certainly take me away.

Full moon
almost hidden
by black blue and grey clouds.

The beach is hidden
battered by the agressive waves.

-Will Dockery (Summer 1997)

Blood Skeleton

Blood Skeleton

Barry the Bear
stood on the river bank
watching eels swim downstream.

The eels are free in the depths
they do not fear.
Some die on impact
on the rocks in the shallows.

Somehow
the great luminous eels
continue on
singing their songs.

Very few eels
make it to the sea
no men do.

The eels glow like the moon
singing crazy songs.

Barry called it gibberish
as he stood on the bank
watching the waves
flecked with illumination.

The great white eels
were moving
with the slow slushy current.

Barry went back
to washing his Econoline van
thinking about a coupon he'd found
free cup of coffee with purchase.

Up on First Avenue and over
awaited the machine guns
a green limousine
reptiles with some very real emotions.

An early Summer morning
down by the river
a couple hits of loud
washing a gold van.

There's a Detroit song
on the radio
as Motown ushers in the sun.

Barry turned his hat brim down
buffing wax on the van.

The night air
was heavy and metallic
the sky was copper
as dawn broke.

Over on the camp fire
a soup of roast fish
rice and sugar cane.

Barry the Bear re-lit
the smoldering blunt
and called someone
in a nearby phone booth.

-Will Dockery (1981/5-10-20)

Long Long Time

Long Long Time

In my upstairs work area
at the old Jordan Mill
looking out the window
overlooking the river.

I heard the siren blow
I saw the black funnel crossing over
with a howling sound
like "Here comes my train."

The storm was blasting
outside of the second floor.
The dust then circled
and settled on the floor.

The ceiling spun
into chopped hunks
busted at my feet.
Whatever was happening
the chaos was complete.
So I left
and took the future with me.

The winds were huffing
sideways wet air all about,
I sat in the smoking booth
on the second floor looking out.

Shipping through the device
bale after bale
passes through.

On a twelve hour shift
I'd stand and watch them roll past
from one hopper
to the other.

I'd been up and down old Broadway
trying to sell my wares,
while the ladies have no time for me
or for any of my cares.
So I left
and took the future with me.

Te orange of the sun
shined down on the Earth
through black clouds
and more of that sideways rain.
"The Devil's beating his wife."

I adjusted the mechanism
when it became too speedy
or I needed a smoke break
or an elevator haul.

Switching empty carts
for full
or vise versa
postponed to the night.

Near the window where the light was
dust particles sparkled
all that history
what was it worth?

On the assembly line
at the old factory
where I worked for nearly a decade.

Before I jumped the fence
before they chained the gates
each day was basically the same.

The belt was moving fast
I registered,
poured a coffee
and punched a code on the buttons
on that heavy green machine.

Waited for the conveyor belt
to roll down
another bale of cotton.

Shipping through the device
bale after bale
passes through.

On a twelve hour shift
I'd stand and watch them
roll past
from one to the other.

Winter of 1984-85
was a cold one.
Just the mention
of those digits
take me back
in fascination
on that dark infatuation
of that era.

Visions of boots
stomping in the mud
the belt was moving fast
moving like it should.

I registered
and poured a coffee
punched a code on the buttons
on that heavy green machine.

First minutes of the year 1985
and we saw Tom Snelling
swung in a Judo move
by a Denny's waitress.

The girl indeed knew her moves
Tom on the carpet
we all laughed with kudos
and took a booth
in the Smoking Section.

Later back at the Mill
as the hours passed
slowly on a graveyard shift
to keep the mechanism moving.

Fascination or discovery
everything was ordered.
Then I left
and took the future with me.

-Will Dockery (1977/2019)

Idol Hour Night

Idol Hour Night

Throgh a glass darkly
flying so high for the money.
I can see her face shining
from another dark
bright plane.

Where we'll do again
what here we'll never know.

Sleep now
we'll wander
where the sof dust flows.
Heaven knows...
No.
In that Idol hour night.
She was an actress,
I was a thief
in her company I found belief.

With style and grace,
she kept a perfect beat
smiling muse
ashes
on a dead end street.

Sleep now
we'll wander slow.
Around the Horn of Antares
in that idol hour night.

I will come to you
on a seven eleven.

Landscape of
crystalline
marble
chess pieces.
Under the dark terran...
for you.

Time on my side
not always what it
appears to be.
I was sad like
the Gulf beach strewn.
Her eyes
like the sky.

Mirror twin
at the crack of dawn
on a buzzing lawn.

Nothing alive
but a song.
Here instead
in my soul.

Around Perdition's flames
burning light...
in that idol hour night.

-Will Dockery (2011)

Vortex

Vortex

What color is the vortex?
I wouldn't be able to say
I don't know.

Colors are there -
like green Halloween.

1995 was a
powerful black year
I can't exactly call you why
I'm not at liberty.

Some people told me
the vortex is pink.

-Will Dockery (1996)

Behind The Mask

Behind The Mask

I can see her
like a ghost
through these sixteen years.

She comes riding
across sand and ashes
on a North Carolina
ginger mare.

I sometimes see
painted wagons
behind her
sixteen banners
flutter in the breeze.

These images
then fade
like the memories
I've been hiding.

Behind the mask
shielded from tomorrow.
Behind the mask
I can conceal my sorrow.

Across the swamp
we were separated
from the years of crying
and being elated.

We three worked
at the baseball factory
while we lived
with my cousin Jenny.

Behind the mask
we worked
in the powder room.
Behind the mask
in that
smoky factory gloom.

The new year
rolled around
we found peace
in this small town.

Far away
from her mother
watching detectives
sent by her father.

Behind the mask
I still recognize her.
Behind the mask
still surprised
at the allure.

-Will Dockery (8-2-20)

Boarding House

Boarding House

The truth echoes
always and forever dead.
A brittle glow worm
got caught in the snow.

Hugo told me
tears were going to flow
we were watching baseball
a sad game.

I wish it could ring out
like bells
but it is silent and still.

It was when I was staying
at the boarding house
across from the park.

I hated those bells
and I hated that place.
At the same time
I loved it

Time stood still
during those bleak days.
There was no island
no ocean.

There's golden Heaven now
streets of gold
people embedded in gold.

She has passed now
she had wandered in sorrow.
The constellation Leo
domicile of the sun.

Hugo got his
that's for sure.
Now I have to sit
and wait for mine.
A sad game.

She passed into colors
it echoed through the world.
But nobody heard it
always and forever dead.

Splashing water
and thin tanks
in early daylight
fading constellations above.

Lost stone city
with mud streets
out in Lee County.

She remembered that city
that river
those friends.

Time stood still
in my room
in that boarding house
always and forever dead.

-Will Dockery (1993)

Neon Illuminating Tears

Neon Illuminating Tears

I've got a friend at Tenneco
her girlfriend died.

The apricots in Spring
decay on the vine.

There World's a mystery place
with crispy light
and crackling shadows.

And I'm standing
in an echoing hallway,
talking to an echoing hallway.

Neon Illuminating tears
streaming down her face.

On the phone
outside of Plaza Drugs,
she heard the blunt news.

Smash up on the rails.

-Will Dockery (1982)

I'll Sign The Papers

I'll Sign The Papers

Terror drain
tear stain
tornado rain
tender brain.

To you I,
tear me.

-Will Dockery (Spring 1996)

Spring Conversation

Spring Conversation

Conversation with my lady
on a Sunday afternoon.
This jam of traffic
spiral staircase
and rotting brick.

-Will Dockery (1996)

Toni's Migraine

Toni's Migraine

Reds turn to blues
Greens turn into golden amber.
Then near the peak
she said she smelled
bread baking.
Heat here like
walking over hot pavement.
Bad diet
bad sleep.

-Will Dockery (8-17-96)

Weekend Vampire

Weekend Vampire

There was this
psychic vampire,
he was draining us
in subterfuge.

He was creepy
in a
hipster kind of way.

A red faced
cowboy Frankenstein.

He smiled in my face
sat down with
my friends,
had an odd agenda.

Out in the sticks
where the oak trees grow.

At the
Edgewood Park,
clipping down his hedgerow.

-Will Dockery (8-26-21)

Stoneman the Cat

Stoneman the Cat

Ten mama birds – pelicans,
flying in formation, following daddy.
Sitting on the rocks
is Stoneman the Cat.

Watching for fish,
sniffing for ravens,
brunettes are his favorite dish.
Ah, you green-eyed little fiend,
my friend, have some burger,
strut your tail.
Primordial predatory animal,
grey goatee – jump up on the table
you purr like a Harley.

You nuzzle on my pen –
I'm trying to write, cat!
While you wanna sleep on my arm.
Dream well, paisan.

-Will Dockery (1999)

Seems a long time ago, Tina

Seems a long time ago, Tina

Staring at a picture book
as cellos saw away outside
Photographs of 1981
Seems very real to me
such a regal lady
but it is another land
far away
before I threw it all away
for her
I know that truth still echoes
and hurts
and just reminds me just how
confused the gambles made
could sometimes be.

Tina maybe some days
do you remember Dunkin' Dine
when we would go there
and play the little juke
box that was on all the tables?
George Harrison
remembered John and
"All those years ago."
Played The Who a lot:
as we looked into each others' eyes
and swore this would stick:
"You better, you better you bet!"
Six months later
all, and I do mean all .
. . was lost.

Tina like a painting
in my memory
with your long red cartoon hair
green tiger eyes
deep and pure with honesty
just about as tall as me
as we clinched together like
Leonard Cohen's crucifix
a raving beauty
of fire and ice and a sparkle of green.

Game for any games
I could think of
you were always taking
the photos
and rarely appeared in any
in Summer of 1981.

Now I wish I had insisted more
took the camera
to for a moment be an artist
so I could see you
just a little while
but then again no.

Because even now I know folks
who like
being the photographer
because that is being
the artist
of the work
and that was you
in Summer of 1981.

I probably never mentioned
to you
at the time
since I'm not sure which of you
I was talking with
more that day
that I had a camera
filled with photos
of me and you
of me and Kathy and Clay
and those mutual cousins
in our scene.

As always running in a hurry
with my mind
filled with doubt and worry
I left that camera
sitting on a table
at Church's Chicken
across the street
from the Varsity Jr. hot dog stand
on Lindburg Drive
second guessing as time passed by

It was out of my sight
for five minutes
flashing by
as I would expect now
36 years of perspective later
it was gone
when I got back.

I asked the employees
but nobody would admit
the camera
was ever there
it was only a few minutes
one of those employees
had to have
stolen that camera.

This would be
a whole roll
of photos of us
from that same time period
these photos of
Summer 1981...
as we strolled
barefoot
on Cheshire Bridge Road.

And the shortcut
through the back streets
giggling
outside Sweet Gum Head bar
two green haired
punk rock boys
kissing
declared their love
like we did
that month in Summer 1981.

Tina I see you closed
that picture book
that box filled with your
poetry and trinkets
from a bygone modern age
I see you waving goodbye...
that was so long ago!

-Will Dockery (2018)